


do you know whats worth fighting for? [[END CHAPTER]]

by 0xFRERARDx0



Series: do you know whats worth fighting for? [5]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 23:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3747250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0xFRERARDx0/pseuds/0xFRERARDx0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>its the end of this fanfiction, and enjoy the morgan freeman voice at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do you know whats worth fighting for? [[END CHAPTER]]

**Author's Note:**

> this is a shorter one, sorry guys.

.. . ... . . . .   
gerardspov  
. . . . . . .   
we were laying in bed, just me and frankie. god, i wish id talked to mikey sooner. i didn’t realize what id done to my poor mikey. frank was right. there was a lot of misunderstanding.  
“i really messed up, didn’t i?”   
franks eyes opened immediately. “you did. so did mikey. you both were in the position of the blame, but you fixed it.”  
i sighed. i still feel like we’ll never be the same. “things will never go back to normal. whats mikey gonna do? where do i go? am i supposed to go back to live with him and ma..i cant stay here, all up in your way.”  
“hey. gerard.” frank was staring intensely at me. “stop working yourself up. you can stay here forever, if you want.”  
“thanks....i just...feel useless and in the way.” i laughed pitifully. “fuck, im stupid.”  
“ssh. gee. i think i know how to fix this.”  
“how?” right away i turned fully to him.  
“you need to go back to talk to your mother, for one, and you need a job. a purpose.”  
. . . . . . . ... . . ...  
so there i was, sitting at the kitchen table with ray, mikey, that bob guy, and my “boyfriend” brainstorming my “purpose.”  
i had started taking my pills regularly, thanks to frank’s comforting words. i was gaining my normal weight back too.  
“you could..work in a store or gas station until you figure it out?” ray tossed the idea out into the room.  
and frank tossed it out. “no, that’s stupid. not even the slightest bit fun, either.”  
“i don’t care if its fun or not.” i rested my chin in my hands, propping my elbows up onto the table.  
“well whats your dream job?” bob was shy about it first, havng to repeat it louder.  
“i want to be an artist, really...but i know im a good singer too.” i thought for a second. “wait, frank don’t you have a job?! you’ve been home with me for like..two weeks. aren’t you gonan get in trouble or get fired or something?”  
frank tilted his head. “i have ajob...its just...odd.”  
“he sits around the house all day making a mess writing music and playing guitar,” ray chipped in.  
“really?” i was kinda impressed. well maybe id be more impressed if i heard it.  
“yea. band broke up like what? three months ago?”frank looked to bob and ray and even to mikey.   
“dude it was like 5 months.” mikey giggled it out.   
“whatever, Willow,” frank said smiling.  
“maybe we should start a band back up again..?” bob was still quiet, since he probably didn’t want to seem like an idiot around a complete stranger. i get it.  
ray shook his head. “i don’t know, man. we never got that far before.”  
“doesn’t mean we still cant,” frank pointed out.  
“we had a record deal before, so why not now?” it was mikey that time.  
my eyes widened. “you were in a band?! i knew you played bass but...i didn’t think...”  
“well someone was a bit preoccupied with running away from me for a long while.” mikey glared at me, but it was a forgiving, teasing, statement.  
“so you guys wanna try again?” ray seemed only half convinced with the idea as he asked.  
“ive got nothing to lose,” mikey replied.  
“same.” that was bob, he was grinning.  
“we still have to find gerards purpose.” that was ray.  
“bitch! did you hear his voice yesterday??? hes joining. right?”  
uh. what. nervous. fuck. fuck. yes. no. “uh..sure?” it came out more nervous and fast and high pitched than i wanted.  
“fuck yea! hahaha yes!” frank seemed overly happy with the idea. getting up from where he was perched ontop of the table and running over to me, picking me up hugging me.  
“so you guys wanna yknow...stop being fags and get this band put together?” honestly, i was kinda shocked bob had said that so confidently with a smile.  
“youre a fag,” frank said happily over my shoulder. “get out of the closet already, bryar.”  
“i can stay in the closet as long as i want,” bob said, flipping frank off playfully.  
everyone was kind gigglng at that point.  
“mother slides piece of salami under closet door,” mikey said, motioning with his hands.  
“for real, lets get this done.”  
. . . . . ... .. . ..  
i was surprised to find out everyone had their place. it felt so natural. a little too natural. or i was just being weird. it was nice, seeing ray with his guitar, seeing frank with his slung low on his shoulder (oh my god my man ovaries), my mikes on his bass, and bob on the drums.  
two weeks into this band thing, and i think its rather amazing.  
frank was testing out the mics, same with bob. “ooohh gerard...” it was bobs deep voice ringing through their basement at almost stage volume. “gerarrrrd you make my heart buuuurrrn...”  
i sat there, in the spinny chair frank and i had brought down there, along with the foldable ones, surrounded by our little coffe tables and desks and pieces of wood as makeshift tables to hold shit, beers, ashtrays, song lyrics, sheet music, rays notes on Dio. my legs, covered in the tight black skinnies (they were always my favorite), were slung over the arm of the chair, and i was leaning on my elbow, the faded blue mickey mouse sweater id stole from my frankie covering most of my arm. i laughed slightly and blushed at bobs little song to me, his voice being off key and almost mono tone.  
“we should probably actually get this shit set up and practice, maybe?” it was ray, who was busy tuning his guitar.  
“whatever toro” that was frank. im glad hes my stupid little smart ass.  
after a minute of man-giggling, i actually spoke up. “i wrote a new song last night, guys.”  
i pulled the sheet music off my folder full of my private work, stuff i wasn’t ready to show the guys yet.  
“i don’t know what to call it.” i scratched my cheek and waited as frank and ray looked it over, mikey peering over their shoulders.  
“i like this lyric.” frank pointed to the words scrawled in ugly handwriting “when youre dead and gone, your weary widow marches on”  
“whats the meaning behind the song?” mikey asked that.  
that silly goose. thinking theres a hidden meaning to all my work. “theres no hidden meaning or anything. its part of a story i guess.”  
“oh, gee, tell us a story PWEEEEEEAAAASE???” it was mikey making big eyes at me, jokingly child-like.  
“well children, gather ‘round.” i sat up right in the chair, laughing and all of them, even bob, gathered iin a group at my feet. seriously. “once upon a time, there was this man, and he was very sad and had a very sad life, going into the war, then returning home to find out he has cancer.”  
“well fuck,” bob half whispered.  
“yeah, fuck. for real. but that’s not it. this whole song is about him dying, his whole life flashing before him. from when he was a little boy. and then he has a sudden realization, when he’s greeted into the purgatory-ish place, it has no name. the moral of this story, children, is to not be afraid of death when it comes, but to embrace it. be happy you’ve lived such a good life.”  
no one said a thing. hey just kinda stared at me.  
“you thought of that last night?” bob looked really impressed as he asked.  
“yea, while frank was fucking me sideways against the wall in our room.” i rolled my eyes while saying it.  
“ did NOT need to know that,gee.” mikey was covering his face with his hands, probably laughing.  
“i was just kidding. ive been secretly brainstorming and writing lyrics for as long as the bands been a sort of thing. just hiding it.”  
i paused. “also, frank didn’t do that to me yesterday, he did it this morning,” i said, winking at bob.  
frank blushed really hard. because, i really wasn’t kidding.  
“gross gross gross.” mikey had thrown an empty red bull can at me, to find out it still had a little bit in it.  
“oops,” he said, as i was splashed in the face with three day old energy drink.  
. . . . .. . . .....  
narrators pov  
. .   
*imagine morgan freeman voice*  
mikey and bob eventually moved in with the rest of the band, and there was a lot of “stop fucking on the couch” and “HEY SOMEONES IN HERE” taking place along the way.   
the band never really got anywhere, but they ended up getting a tiny record deal with Eyeball Records.   
everyone was happy, normal, not crazily anorexic, not crying all the time, not depressed, and still didn’t listen to bobs “stop fucking on the couch” rule.  
. . . . ... . .  
FIN


End file.
